Today's bow tie is also one-of-a-kind. It's a leftover from a batch we made a little over a year ago from scruffy blue chambray, most of which were diamond pointed and ended up going to Times Square and the Meatpacking District where Levi's promptly sold out of them. I stumbled upon a butterfly version and decided it called for an old cable-knit navy sweater I also just rediscovered in the back of my closet.
I had the privilege of a BBQ lunch meeting with a cordial churchman and friend. This gent has a doctorate, and has just recently finished reading the entirety of an even more cordial churchman, mutual teacher, and friend's 7 volume history of preaching. Needless to say, I was all ears when he offered some constructive criticism on Sunday's sermon.
Bill Spoon's Barbecue was delicious, and delightfully low-brow, as all such joints should be.
I moved on to a more high-brow Charlotte establishment, the one and only Fairclough & Co. Clothiers. I managed to avoid the Alden shoes and got off pretty cheap, relatively speaking (see below).
I am always more and more impressed with Charlotte. I know it's not supposed to have any character, history, and soul. So maybe I'm shallow. But Charlotte is great.
I was on a no-jeans-because-jeans-are-for-manual-laborers kick for a while, and actually went an entire year without ever wearing blue jeans. It started by accident, and then became a stupid personal challenge. What was I thinking? I'm compensating now by wearing the Gold Standard almost every day.
The real test of any bow tie is: when you un-do it at 6:00pm as you're greeting your wife at the door, does she think you're hot stuff? Causation is pretty hard to prove around here, being as Ellie makes the things herself--she could just be admiring her own work. But once you take the baby off her hands and disappear, you instantly become hot stuff---but especially with a bow tie. Make sense? I'm rambling. The point is: buy this only-one-of-it's-kind-left blue chambray bow tie today, or it's gone forever (unless we happen upon more of this fabric).
Right: so, about how I escaped from Fairclough: With this. Genuine man. Perhaps even Old Man (all the better). There were some sissy scents available that Ellie might have liked better. But at the end of the day, you've got to go with Bay Rhum. Can you believe the packaging on this thing? A wax seal? That paper!? That crown? Glad I finally got me some. I'm inhaling right now. It smells legit.
Cheers until tomorrow.
PS--Sorry about the whole Andy-standing-with-Ray-Bans-in-front-of-buildings flavor of this post.
PSS---Sorry also for the hyphenate-the-crap-out-of-everything flavor of this post.